


A Great Bear

by Nebulad



Series: Vir Sumeil [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Animal Death, F/M, Fluff, Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“She laughs a lot more,” Pol continued, like Tamlen hadn’t said anything. “All Dalish girls do but Noll is just… different.” The hunter narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” As if he hadn’t realized.</p><p>“I… I don’t know. You’re her friend, do you think she’d be impressed if I— <i>shit</i>.” Pol blanched and Tamlen turned to see what he was looking at. There was an enormous, lumbering bear that had heard them speaking and come to investigate. <i>“It’s a great bear,”</i> Pol whispered hysterically.</p><p>“It’s an all right bear,” Tamlen countered with a shrug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Great Bear

Hunting without Noll was boring, but in fairness it was his own fault. Minutes before being caught by Master Ilen trying to sneak elfroot out of the stock _(just enough for the both of them to sneak off into the woods and relax a little, and they’d planned to replace it)_ they’d arm wrestled for who would take the blame. Noll claimed Tamlen cheated somehow, but did her duty and admitted that it was her when the craftmaster found them (found her— Tamlen had bailed, as was his right as the winner).

“Don’t sulk,” Fenarel teased, throwing a handful of grass at him. He batted it away and tossed a pinecone at his fellow hunter’s head. “Touchy today!” he declared, dodging it easily.

“Pissy because the only reason he catches anything is doing hard labour with Master Ilen right now,” Ineria said, hardly looking up from her pack. She’d stowed away a bottle of whiskey that she’d bargained off a _durgen’len_ merchant in Lothering, and was trying to find it through the proper rations.

“Pissy because I got put with the flat-ear,” he said, tilting his head over to Pol. The boy flushed uncomfortably and Tamlen sighed. “It was a joke,” he reminded the kid. “And you still make too much noise when you shoot anyway.”

“I’ll try harder,” Pol swore, and he rolled his eyes. The boy still thought they were all woodland mages who were born good with a bow— the other hunters gave him shit, but because it was what hunters _did_. No one really cared he was a flat-ear.

“It’s like having Merrill on a hunt,” Fenarel laughed.

“Don’t shit talk the First,” Ineria snapped automatically.

“ _Now_ who’s pissy?” Tamlen said with a snort, and caught the bag of dried druffalo strips that she threw at him.

“Pissy because Noll left me with the lot of you,” she groused, going back to trying to find the wine.

“You would’ve had to take Pol out eventually,” Tamlen reminded her. “Marethari thinks Fenarel and I are mean to him.”

“You _are_ mean to him,” she said flatly. “So is Noll, which is why I get stuck teaching apprentices all the time.”

“Try being meaner,” Fenarel suggested.

“A-Are we actually going to… hunt something?” Pol asked timidly. Tamlen snorted.

“Once I’m drunk enough. Hurry up Ineria, how hard can it be to find a bottle in a backpack?”

. . . . .

Pol wasn’t doing anything and in truth Tamlen preferred it that way. The flat-ear sat very still, his round eyes watching the hunter’s every move. It was annoying, but not so much as having to suffer talking to him. Pol had called him _cousin_ once which was so Alienage it sort of unnerved him. He knew that it was the same thing as calling someone _lethallan,_ but it was so reminiscent of the cities. Tamlen had never been in one, and Creators willing, he would never have to be.

They’d shot a few rabbits (Tamlen had) and wounded a deer but lost it afterwards (Pol), and he was ready to return to camp. Noll would complain about her day with Ilen, probably show him a bandaged cut that she got being careless. He’d tell her about hunting with Pol and their pitiful pull for the day, and she’d tease him for letting a city elf slow him down…

“C-Can I ask you something?” Pol whispered. Tamlen had been staring forward and daydreaming for five minutes, but pretended to be irritated so it seemed like he was scouting.

“Go on.”

“You’re… _friends_ with Noll, right?” he asked anxiously, twisting his tunic around in his hands. Tamlen responded with a flat glare. “I-I was just wondering! She seems… nice,” he said uncertainly.

“Nice.” She’d jumped out at Pol around the corner of an aravel the first time he moved with the clan and the flat-ear had screamed and then turned beet red.

“She’s not like Alienage girls,” Pol defended lamely.

“I imagine not.” He didn’t understand the _point_ of this conversation. Why was he asking about Noll? If they went back to camp he could talk to her himself, and Tamlen had hardly been nice enough to him to act as a go between.

“She laughs a lot more,” he continued, like Tamlen hadn’t said anything. “All Dalish girls do but Noll is just… different.” The hunter narrowed his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” As if he hadn’t realized.

“I… I don’t know. You’re her friend, do you think she’d be impressed if I— _shit._ ” Pol blanched and Tamlen turned to see what he was looking at. There was an enormous, lumbering bear that had heard them speaking and come to investigate. _“It’s a great bear,”_ Pol whispered hysterically.

“It’s an all right bear,” Tamlen countered with a shrug, readying his bow. A smaller animal and he might have jumped down to engage it with his sword— of course, it had to be a fucking bear. He wished Noll was with him— this would be a lot easier if it was her instead of the damn flat-ear. “Can you get to the next tree?” he asked. Pol nodded, scrambling to his feet. “Go get Ineria and Fenarel.”

“Will you be okay?” Tamlen glared at him.

“Are you really going to be any help?” he demanded. Pol went red but shook his head, barrelling off towards the next tree. Tamlen sighed and ran his hand through his hair, looking down. The bear had noticed him— no doubt this was a creature that tormented the traders so that they wouldn’t come to visit the camp.

He had height on the beast. For now.

. . . . .

Noll tried to sit still while Merrill healed her hand, but Ilen had dismissed her for the day which meant that she could at least go and meet the hunters at their camp. Tamlen would get to brag about whatever he’d killed and make fun of her for cutting herself open on a splinter. “Hold still,” the First scolded her.

“How much longe—”

“Noll?” Junar scrambled up beside her, his eyes darting between the healing and the treeline. He hadn’t gone out with the hunters today, and Noll suspected it was because he was sweet on one of the crafting apprentices. He’d been hovering around the forge all day without ever actually doing anything besides moving raw material around. “I think you ought to come see what Tamlen’s done.”

She stood up and Merrill sighed a little— the wound wasn’t entirely healed yet but it was down to a scratch which was really all Mahariel needed. She spent one day away from Tamlen and suddenly the fool was… doing something. Something that seemed to be irritating the Keeper, if Marethari’s expression was anything to go by. The Keeper stood by her aravel as the hunters crowded around him, who was sitting on… _something_.

“Hardly twelve hours without me, Tam,” she called from the back of the crowd. He was sitting on a fucking _bear._ He hopped down at the sound of her voice and the hunters parted for him.

“That’s for you,” he said, gesturing at the carcass. She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m serious.”

“You didn’t hunt down a _bear_ for me.” She hoped he hadn’t anyway, though she didn’t entirely put it past him.

“No, the animal attacked me first and I struck the killing blow— Ineria and Fenarel helped too, but agreed it was my kill,” he said.

“Don’t forget Pol,” Fenarel called, which only served to highlight how silent the clan had gone. She understood— this was a _huge_ gesture, and with the right invocation it could easily be seen as a declaration of intent on her. He wouldn’t, she knew— he wouldn’t _dare_ without warning her first— but for many it wouldn’t matter. This was scandalous either way, a true testament to Tamlen’s hubris to give her a bear carcass as a silly flirtation.

“....and Pol,” Tamlen conceded albeit unwillingly. “My kill and your corpse either way.”

“You’re giving me a bear,” she repeated. Its fur was a healthy brown and Merrill was already casting to keep the bugs away from it while the hunters waited for either Tamlen or her to tell them they could begin dressing it.

“It’s a _great bear,”_ he corrected, gesturing towards it. She kissed his cheek.

“It’s an all right bear,” she offered, then waved her hand at the hunters. They immediately began to strip the beast down, and she bounced a little on her heels. “I’d like to keep the pelt,” she said at the crowd, and Ineria and Variel, a craftsperson apprentice, nodded their heads. Besides that small assertion, there wasn’t much she could do regarding the animal. The hunters already had the skinning underway, and a few craftspeople stood by to wait for them to be done so they could gather up bones and sinew.

She turned back to Tamlen, who was watching her with very poorly concealed smugness. “Well?” he asked. He wanted to be told either how impressed she was or how jealous; either way, she’d probably indulge him.

“Let’s find some food and you can tell me how lucky you are,” she returned. She was smiling, though, so wide that she couldn’t disguise how pleased she was by the gesture.

If Tamlen was a lesser man, he might have hunted Pol down to rub it in his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Later when they are both Grey Wardens, Noll with win the killing blow on an ogre. Tamlen will lean over, exhausted, and she will shamble up beside him. "That's yours," she'll tell him, and she will win the game. Shades will descend for the sky and she will moonwalk away from the corpse while Tamlen tries to think of something bigger than an ogre.
> 
> not sure how I feel about this but very sure how I feel about Tamlen.
> 
> ive said it before and i'll say it again nebulaad.tumblr.com is ME AND I HATE AO3 FEED BLOGS. like super duper if one of them brought you here but I HATE them and this is DEFINITELY posted on my blog, on the site.


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